


Return to Me

by Szajnie



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 23:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10672998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Szajnie/pseuds/Szajnie
Summary: The fractured remnants of Shin-Ra aren't as defeated as hoped and it appears they have their sights set on Tifa. The hows and whys don't matter. Cloud won't let anything happen to her.





	1. Taking Care

AN: I know-I usually stick notes at the end but I wanted to apologize. I started the expansion of this drabble awhile ago...and then changed it before posting...and then decided I didn't like the re-write, so I took it down and now we're back to the original drabble and story idea. I enjoy "couple" Cloti way too much, and the story flows much better with their established relationship. I also will treat their relationship as an adult one and all that entails. 

I should also warn that while I try to keep canon things canon, there will be some things tweaked or changed to suit the narrative of this fanfic.

So...anyway, here we go (again) and I hope that you still read and enjoy.

 

His arrival was heralded by a scurry of activity and awed murmurs of the WRO soldiers in camp as soon as the approaching airship was recognized.

Cloud Strife. Legendary hero.

Savior of the Planet.

Defeater of Sephiroth. (Twice.)

And man on a mission.

His boots hit the ground before the airship was even cleared to land.

A leap from that height would have killed, or at the very least greatly impeded, a normal man, but for Cloud it barely slowed his steps. This prompted even more murmurs and nods from the young recruits, but he either ignored or was oblivious to the commotion he was causing.

Most of the Officers in the area had enough sense to move out of his way as he approached—they'd seen that particular glow in his eyes before—and those that didn't soon learned what it meant when blue chilled until it burned.

Shouldering past the throng of eager cadets that crowded around him, Cloud demanded, "Where is she?" when he spotted Reeve.

"Good to see you too, Cloud," Reeve murmured, turning to face him.

The other man looked a bit haggard in appearance, tired with stained clothes and a dirty face, but otherwise he looked to be in good shape, Cloud observed, and that helped ease his mind somewhat. Although he knew he wouldn't relax until he saw Tifa.

"I'm glad you could make it so quickly. There are several things I need to inform you of—"

"Where is she?" he repeated in a tone that made it clear wasn't thrilled to be asking twice.

Reeve blinked, and then nodded. "Of course. She's in the Medical Tent—"

Figures, Cloud thought, spinning on his heel, dismissing Reeve from his attention. She was always taking care of everyone else. It didn't matter if she was hurt, tired, or just plain sick, Tifa took care of everyone around her. She had a maternal instinct on overdrive, and Cloud suspected it was largely due to the lack of mothering in her own life, but he'd never broach that with her. Some things—even between them-were private.

He managed to make it to the tent without being interrupted—word spread fast when Cloud was in a bad mood- and he was thankful for that much of his reputation, at least. He shoved past half open canvas flaps and stopped dead in his tracks. Relief made his heart shudder in his chest.

When he and Cid had received word that the WRO had infiltrated an area of unexpected heavy resistance Cloud had to forcibly tell himself to remain calm; they WRO were trained fighters and experts in their fields. They could handle the situation, and Tifa was more than capable of taking care of herself. However, a second radio message from Reeve informing them that base camp itself was under heavy fire had Cloud demanding that Cid turn the Sierra around and to hell with their assignment.

Deep Ground laboratories could wait.

Tifa needed him.

The flight had taken less than an hour, but during that time Cloud managed to envision every nasty, gruesome scenario his imagination could conjure, and he had to admit, he had a terrifyingly vivid imagination.

But there she was.

Seated on a chair not twenty feet from him. Dim light and dark hair obscuring most of her face, but he'd know her anywhere.

Relief turned to irritation a moment later when one of the WRO troops moved to stand, and then crouch, in front of her. Cloud recognized the man as one of Reeve's WRO Elite. Dark hair, green eyes, dimples. Classic good looks and athletic physique, a natural with a gun or a sword—so Reeve proclaimed—and smart, too. SOLDIER material, back in the day. Blade was his name.

 _What the hell kind of name was_ Blade _anyway?_

When Blade's hand, sans glove, dared reach up and gently cradled Tifa's cheek, Cloud started forward.

The other man, possibly gifted with a keen sense of self preservation, dropped his hand and rose to his feet the moment he spotted Cloud. But he didn't back away, Cloud noticed, and that drew his brows down and caused his fingers to twitch.

And Tifa still hadn't looked at him.

Eyes narrowed, Cloud didn't so much as grunt to acknowledge the other man, but instead dropped down in front of Tifa—forcing _Blade_ to take a step back or be pushed over. Cloud slid his hands up her arms, reassuring himself with her warmth. Her eyes were closed, dark lashes against pale skin, and mouth slightly parted. Asleep.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his own mouth at how innocent she looked. His relief at finding her unharmed nearly made him lightheaded, but once again that relief was soon blanketed with the thorny bramble of irritation.

This guy was _touching_ Tifa while she was _asleep._ _His_ Tifa.

"She's under a Sleepel spell," Blade informed him. "Reeve thought it best to let her wake on her own and not force it. I'm inclined to agree. She's exhausted." There was condemnation in his tone.

Cloud glanced over his shoulder to see the younger man leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. It was an arrogantly casual stance, one that was meant to send the message: he wasn't impressed with the great Cloud Strife.

"I can see that," Cloud replied, calm and even, despite the sudden urge to plant his blade _through_ Blade. His fingers drifted up to brush long bangs back from Tifa's forehead. She had a nasty gash there, he realized with a deepening frown, but it looked like it had been cleaned and treated already.

"Bomb took out our vehicles. She took some shrapnel," Blade commented, before Cloud could ask. "She also took on a dozen enemies on her own. She's quite the fighter." Appreciation. Possibly reverence now.

Cloud didn't like that any better.

"We ran into some rogue pockets of resistance that we weren't counting on." Reeve's voice brought Cloud's head around. Flanked by two other officers, both sporting wounds and bandages, Reeve strode down the main aisle towards them. "I have reason to believe that the enemy was waiting for us," he continued.

Cloud leaned back a bit, but kept his fingers curled around Tifa's forearms. "Ambush?"

Reeve nodded. His eyes shifted, moving to rest on Tifa and Cloud got the feeling that there was more coming...and he wasn't going to like it.

The shorter of the two men accompanying Reeve gestured towards the door. "Lieutenant, why don't you take Ms. Lockhart to the Sierra. I'm sure Captain Highwind can get her situated much more comfortably."

Blade nodded, but Cloud didn't budge from his spot in front of Tifa. He knew he should stay and talk to Reeve about the situation at hand, but he wasn't willing to let Tifa out of his sight, and more to the point, he wasn't willing to let anyone else touch her. "I'll take her," he stated.

"It's no problem for the Lieutenant, I assure you," the guard spoke up. "He has been taking care of Ms. Lockhart since the rescue. He hasn't left her side."

If that was meant to make Cloud feel better, it failed. Miserably.

"I just bet," Cloud grumbled under his breath.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking her," Blade added, and Cloud got the distinct impression of taunt and challenge from his tone.

That shit was getting really old.

"Try it," Cloud all but growled, shifting his position so that when he rose it was with Tifa cradled in his arms, his eyes hard as they met mocking green.

"Excuse me, sir?" The guards blinked, clearly confused with the exchange between the two men.

Cloud flicked a glance at Reeve. "Can it wait?"

"Yes."

"Good." Without a backwards glance, Cloud marched out of the tent. "I'll be on the Sierra."

Reeve cleared his throat, coughed to hide his smile. Despite the grim situation the WRO faced at the moment, he wasn't above a little amusement at his friend's expense. After all, it was a rare thing to see Cloud so riled up. "Sure."

* * *

Across the camp, at the airship landing, Cid was busily barking orders to get the Sierra flight ready, but one look at Cloud's face and the limp body in his arms and he switched gears, barking new orders for his men to get their cabin ready, and the two of them weren't to be disturbed unless Jenova herself was crawling out of the ground, and even then, only if they were losing.

"Thanks," Cloud grunted, passing the older pilot who gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Down below, in the cabins, Cloud settled Tifa on the bed. He studied her as she slept, and noticed a small cut on her upper arm, stitched tight, and Cloud knew immediately who had held the needle. He shook his head, ran his hands through his hair, and tried to dislodge the ugly feelings gnawing at him, but it was no use.

The more he thought about it, the more he pictured it, the more it ate at him until he was up on his feet and pacing.

Someone else had been taking care of her.

He was used to seeing Tifa tend others. She'd bandaged many soldiers over the years. Friends and family, strangers and even enemies. That was something he could handle...but it was _his_ job to protect and take care of her.

He was the one that bathed cuts and soothed tired muscles.

It was his shoulder she leaned on when sleep finally wore her down.

It was his arms that held her up when she stumbled—rare as it was.

It was _him_ that she needed…

Cloud pulled his gloves off with a disgusted grunt. He tossed them and his armor into the chair in the corner. His boots followed as did his overcoat and sweater. He stripped himself to his pants and undershirt before slowly, carefully, removing Tifa's boots and slipping her socks from her feet. He rubbed his thumbs along her arches, like he knew she liked. Even in her sleep she made a small hum of pleasure.

She always responded to him.

Had she responded to Blade?

The thought came without warning and the result was a painful kick to his heart. How could he even think such a thing about her. This was Tifa. Loyal, steadfast, honorable Tifa.

Who was hurt and had needed someone to care for her.

And someone else had done it.

He should be thankful.

So why wasn't he?

He ignored the question and resumed his task of undressing her. Pliant and soft, Tifa made no sounds as he slipped her vest off and then her leather shorts, leaving her in her thin white tank top and cotton panties.

Satisfied, Cloud settled into the bed beside her, curling her into his side. After several minutes of staring at the ceiling, running 'worst-case scenarios' over and over in his head, he managed to fall into a fitful sleep beside her.

He dreamed of Tifa. And Blade.

He dreamed of hurtful words: "I can take care of her." and "I don't need you anymore."

He dreamed of blood and sin. Of death by his hands and lust wrung out in tortured screams.

He dreamed of being lost. Without her...he would be.

* * *

 

He woke with the remnants of fear and betrayal in his mind and it took him a moment to realize that Tifa was awake beside him. "Hey," she whispered, her brows down in concern. "Cloud...are you alright? You were calling for me."

He swallowed, felt it burn his throat. "He took care of you," he said in a voice that was hoarse and strained.

She tilted her head, confusion on her face. "What?"

"That guy. Blade." His name was a sneer. "He took care of you."

Tifa frowned a bit, mulling over his statement, but then her eyes softened and she gave a small smile. "Yeah, I guess he did."

That look, so warm and gentle, was painful for him. Before he could fully comprehend his own actions, Cloud was leaning over her with his hands braced on either side of her head. "That's _my_ job." The words all but snarled out of him.

"Cloud-!"

Her startled protest was quickly silenced by the hot and hungry heat of his mouth. He rasped her name against the column of her neck, open and slick. His teeth scraped and his hands tugged at her, pushing cloth away from soft, warm skin.

When his teeth grazed against a bruise on her jaw, she tensed and shifted away. "Cloud...?"

He could hear the unease in her voice, but his caution was overridden by the clawing tension in his gut. He gripped her hips, drug her closer so that he was pressed hard between her thighs. His eyes flashed phosphorus blue as he watched his own hand trail over her skin, down a toned stomach and lower. A quick, hard tug and her panties were torn and gone.

Her own eyes went wide; startled. They were no stranger to rough lovemaking, but this...was different. There was something akin to panic in his touch. He recognized it, but couldn't stop it. Clumsily, he unbuttoned his trousers and surged forward. Her fingernails bit into his upper arms and her gasp was one of both pain and surprise.

He reared back, pushed in again. Again. Harder.

She was hot and tight and slick and his. _His_ damn it.

He must have said it aloud because her eyes widened and then went soft with understanding and she murmured, "I always have been."

And with her gentle words his hard, demanding thrusts slowed and he bowed his head. Shame replaced anger and he was acutely aware that he had just taken Tifa not out of the love he felt for her, but out of jealousy.

He leaned back, levered himself above her and held her hazy gaze. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, but otherwise remained still, pressed flush within her. She blinked, still sleep confused, and clearly feeling awkward.

Slowly—achingly slowly—he finally began to move, rocking his hips and sinking into her warmth. With each slow thrust he felt the tension ebbing, and her legs moved restlessly alongside his. "I'll take care of you," he promised, his voice husky and deep.

Tifa pressed her palms into his shoulders, raised her hips up off the bed, then back down in a slow slide of heat that had them both gasping. Skilled in most everything, she quickly found his rhythm and with teeth scraping his earlobe she whispered to him, "You always do. You always have."

Cloud groaned. She was hot, soft and wet. She shifted, allowing him better access, drawing her knees up and locking her ankles behind his back. Each movement he made, she countered, and the result was sweet, sweet friction. So good. She felt so damn good.

Trusting, she lifted her face for his kiss, opening for him the moment she felt his tongue caress the seam of her lips. Cloud groaned as he sank into the damp heat of her mouth. Teeth nipped along her lips, her neck, her shoulder and lower.

One strong, sure hand slipped between their bodies and Tifa cried out when his fingers touched her, gliding against swollen skin. Her head fell back as she rode out his ministrations. "Cloud please." She stroked his neck, her palms running flat over his chest, thumbs teasing his nipples.

"Easy," he told her, shuddering as he slipped from the warm hollow of her body.

"Cloud?"

"Shh. I told you, I want to take care of you." He dropped to his knees beside the bed, spread her thighs farther apart. Her scent mixed with his and the aroma was intoxicating. He closed his eyes and savored it. His. She was his.

With that thought, he laid his mouth against her slick heat.

"Cloud!" His name slipped out broken, caught up in a cry of pleasure. He growled again, the vibration sending heat spiraling through her and causing liquid to pool against his seeking tongue. He licked her mercilessly, not content with her simply writhing against him. He wanted to hear her crying his name, wanted to feel her shuddering in ecstasy.

Tifa caught the spikes of his hair in her fists. "Cloud-I…oh, Gods, I can't..."

"Yes, you can." He added his fingers, thrusting two deep as his teeth found and teased her most sensitive nub. She became mindless then, thrusting herself against his mouth, riding his fingers until they were coated with the evidence of her second release and his head hurt from the mad clenching of her fingers in his hair.

Cloud felt a surge of primitive satisfaction when she collapsed, boneless. Carefully, he adjusted her on the bed, keeping her legs spread wide. "You're so beautiful," he rasped. He rubbed the broad head of his erection against her saturated skin, earning yet another fractured cry of want from her. He pressed forward, a strangled sound escaping from his own throat.

Tifa clawed his back, her hips driving upwards, seeking, even as she continued to tremble with the aftershocks of her last orgasm. "Please…" She had no idea what she was asking for. All she knew was that every part of her was alive and tingling and _needy_.

Cloud gripped her hips, holding her to him. "I know." He withdrew slightly, then, with one savage grunt and hard surge, he filled her. He was hard, demanding, spreading her legs wide so he could watch himself thrusting in and out of her tightness.

"Are you alright?" he rasped. He couldn't seem to get a grip on his emotions, but the thought of hurting her...it made his motions stutter and slow.

"Yes." Her hips lifted; encouraging. "Don't stop."

White teeth flashed in a look that was both smug and relieved.

"Gods, yes. Like that. I love you," she crooned when he complied with her silent request, increasing their tempo.

Cloud's muscles knotted and tensed, body teetering on the brink of orgasm. The sight of her-the sound of her-all pushing his control to breaking. "Come, Tifa." His hips pumped furiously. "Come for me."

Her body reacted instantly to his soft command, her inner muscles contracting hard and squeezing him. They rode it out together, his hoarse grunts and her long moans overpowering the slap of skin on skin. Cloud thought maybe he shouted her name as he lost himself in hot, jetting spurts, but he couldn't be sure.

With his face buried in long, dark hair against the pillow, it took him a full minute to catch his breath. Lifting his head, Cloud placed a gentle kiss against her damp temple. "Teef, you with me?"

She nodded, too far gone to speak. He could feel the tremors running through her and his lips curved up. There were some aches that no one else was ever going to take care of.

Tifa turned towards him and caught his face between her hands, kissing him. Soft and slow, she showed him in that one kiss all the passion their love making had, and all the longing she'd felt while they'd been apart.

"You're back early," she commented when breathing finally returned to normal.

"Got word that you couldn't stay out of trouble," he teased, but there was genuine concern in his electric blues.

"Maybe you're just a bad influence," she murmured, her voice slurred, eyes heavy. The spell was still in her system and without the adrenaline of their lovemaking, Cloud could tell she was fighting to stay awake.

"Maybe."

There was a long silence and then she rolled into him, nestled her head into its familiar place beneath his chin. "Thank you."

He blinked down at her. "For?"

"Coming back for me."

He swallowed, tightened his arms around her. "Always, Tifa."

* * *

A knock on the cabin door a few hours later prompted Cloud to slip the sheets over her before peering through the peephole.

Reeve.

Alone; thank Ifrit.

Cloud opened the door.

"Got a minute?" Reeve asked.

Cloud stepped outside, and waited for Reeve to speak. When he didn't, Cloud sighed. "Just tell me whatever it is you don't want to tell me."

Reeve's lips twisted, part smile, part grimace. "I contemplated sending Cait to do this, you know?"

No, Cloud didn't know. Or care. He just wanted information. "What happened?"

"Ambush, like you said." Reeve shifted, glanced back at the cabin.

A tendril of unease coiled in Cloud's gut. "What else?"

"They were targeting Tifa, Cloud."

Ice crawled along his veins. "...Targeting?"

Reeve nodded. "We had exposed flanks, vulnerable weapons, and we weren't expecting to encounter that much firepower, but they didn't go after any of it. The attack was concentrated on Tifa's convoy."

Cloud's muscles tensed. "And you don't think it's coincidence."

It was a statement, but Reeve responded anyway. "No." He shuffled his weight, leaned against the railing. "And I don't think they were trying to kill her."

The coil in Cloud's gut tightened. "Your thinking they wanted to capture her?"

Reeve nodded. "She was taken down. It took almost two dozen of them, but they managed to get her down, and instead of killing her, they cast Sleepel? Doesn't make any sense. Don't get me wrong, I'm thanking the Gods that she wasn't killed, but they had the chance. Why not take it? Unless they don't want her dead." Reeve gave Cloud a sidelong look. "If it hadn't been for Blade, we wouldn't have gotten her out."

Cloud flinched but remained silent.

"My first thought was that they wanted to use her as bait to get to you."

"But not anymore?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you're here, and they haven't made another attack." Reeve turned to face him. "If anything, I think your arrival wasn't expected. Any other airship would have taken twice as long to get here."

"So, what you're telling me is that Tifa is the target."

"I believe so, yes." Reeve nodded.

Cloud stepped to the railing, looked down over the base camp.

"I'll get my best Elite soldiers to watch her back—"

Cloud shook his head. "Don't bother."

Reeve swung him a startled look. "What?"

Blue eyes burned in the shadows. "I'll be with her."

"But, what about the laboratories?"

"We'll figure something else out. I won't leave her, Reeve." Cloud turned away from the other man, and with his hand on the doorknob said, "She's mine to take care of."

Reeve nodded. There wasn't much he could do to change Cloud's mind. Not in this.

Back in the cabin, Cloud slipped beneath the sheets and pulled Tifa into his arms. Nothing and no one was taking her from him. He'd make damn sure of that.


	2. Questions without Answers

Cloud was hiding something.

_Again._

The heavy bag swung to the right.

Tifa danced around to the other side with two quick jabs, trying her best to ignore the caustic voice whispering hurtful reminders in the back of her mind. The same voice that had been whispering to her steadily since she had awakened aboard the Sierra two days ago, alone, with only a scribbled note: _Meeting with Reeve_ in Cloud's familiar script on the stand beside the bed.

Whatever meeting had taken place had put Cloud into SOLDIER mode. It didn't matter if he'd never actually _been_ one. He had all of the traits, and more of the skill, and now he was continuously tense and watchful. He reminded her of snake-coiled and waiting to strike. When she asked him about it, he had assured her that there was nothing to worry about. Cid also said he had no idea, but he too watched the horizon with white lines around his lips, and tension in his posture.

Vincent and Yuffie weren't around to ask.

Barret was in Kalm.

Reeve's response was evasive at best and he suggested that it would be better for her to talk to Cloud. Which she knew would lead nowhere. So here she was in a WRO training gym, missing her children, and wondering why Cloud Strife was lying to her.

 _Again_.

The thought repeated itself through her mind as she punched her wrapped hands against worn canvas. The idea that Cloud was keeping secrets...well, it opened some old wounds that had never quite healed properly and made her all too aware of the insecurities she still harbored in her heart.

She was happy with their life together. She hadn't always been sure of it. _They_ hadn't always been so sure of each other, but she was now. After the Stigma and the chaos of nearly losing Cloud and her children, Tifa knew that they _were_ a family. Maybe a bit odd, maybe a bit unconventional, but a _real_ family.

She also knew that Cloud cared. He loved her and their family as much as she did. He was her best friend and she was his. She _knew_ all of that. They had muddled and stumbled and mishandled so many things, but that one truth remained.

He had been so worried last year that she'd be unable to forgive his transgressions, but it had been no effort at all to forgive him for leaving when he'd been sick. She had long ago determined that Cloud was Cloud, and Tifa Lockhart had loved Cloud Strife far too long to stay angry over his need to protect his own heart and his family in his own way.

But now, knowing that he was keeping something from her...it made her aware that maybe she wasn't being all that honest with herself. Forgiveness was easy...forgetting, it turned out, was much, much harder. She frowned, pushing back against that insistent voice.

The heavy bag groaned with her hits and swung wide. She grabbed it with both hands, drove her knee into it, twice.

"Anyone I know?"

Startled, Tifa glanced up and found amused green eyes staring at her. At her confused expression Blade inclined his head, gesturing to the bag.

Tifa felt a trickle of sand on her thigh. The bag had split. "Oh." She exhaled, giving her head a small shake. "No. I was just…" _Lamenting old issues? Feeling sorry for myself?_ Neither response made for very good conversation, so she shrugged, not knowing exactly what to say, and flashed a smile even as she reached for some rolled tape. "Blade, right?"

His answering grin was warm. "You remembered."

Tifa nodded. "Well, it's kind of hard to forget someone that saves your life."

It was Blade's turn to shrug, but his smile widened. "May I?" He held out his hand for the tape after she'd made a quick fix of the split.

"Oh. Yes, of course. Sorry." She handed it over. "You must think I'm terribly rude."

He tugged the end of the tape free, began circling it around his knuckles. "Can't say that's what I'm thinking, no."

He was tall, Tifa noticed, with broad shoulders beneath his grey tee shirt and a long reach. It had been hard to really tell beneath his armor and gear the other day. She flashed another small smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You're kind."

He let out a soft grunt, one corner of his mouth arched. "Don't let that get around."

Her smile was easier this time. "Reputation to protect?"

"Something like that." He cricked his neck, stretched his arms across his chest while he observed her. "You look recovered."

Tifa felt her cheeks heat. She wasn't altogether certain of everything that had transpired the day of the attack, her memories made foggy from the explosions and the Sleepel spell, but she could recall Cloud above her, _inside_ of her. She remembered, clearly, the feel of his mouth on her skin, his voice in her ear as he took her again and again. Just thinking about it made her feel flushed and achy, a throb forming low in her gut.

Of course, he hadn't touched her since that night. Instead, he had been preoccupied with the "nothing to worry about" that he refused to share with her. After nearly two days of staring at the cabin walls, Tifa had had enough. She needed air. She needed to _do_ something. Sitting on idle just made her homesick.

"Yes," she answered, shaking away the melancholy. "I'm recovered. And you can call me Tifa."

"Another benefit to saving your life?" he asked, arching a thick brow.

She let out a delicate snort. "Something like that."

Blade finished his stretches. He glanced towards the wide mat across the room. "Spar? If you're up for it, that is."

An actual workout would be refreshing. With a smirk, she nodded. "Sure."

* * *

He was good.

She was better.

Tifa gave a soft, sympathetic "ooh" when Blade's back hit the mat for the third time. He rolled, shaking his head to clear it, and pushed back to his feet.

Tifa bounced lightly,her fists curled, a smile on her face. She was having _fun_ she realized. "Let me know when you've had enough."

Blade realigned his stance, shoved his sweat damp hair back and chuckled. "Taunting your opponent? Isn't that beneath you?" He lunged, but she sidestepped easily, countering with an elbow to his side before maneuvering behind him for another take down.

"Not taunting," she said, "more like...consideration."

"Ah." His eyes crinkled as he laughed, evading her grab. "Well, in that case, I'll barely feel the sting to my ego." He paused, made a face. "Or my backside."

Another flurry of fists and kicks, and he was driven back, nearly off the mat. Finally he moved to the side, avoiding her jab, his breathing heavy. "You're fast," he commented, his gaze speculative. "Or I'm slow."

"Not slow. You're leading," she offered.

"Excuse me?"

"With your hips." She motioned with her chin but kept her guard up. "You're projecting your attacks."

Blade glanced down, then back at her. "See, this is why I prefer a sword. Just slash, stab, done."

"There's an art and skill to sword fighting, too."

"Don't tell me..." He moved to the left, then quickly dropped, tried for a leg sweep before coming up fast with his fists. "You're a master swordsman, too?"

"No." Tifa dodged readily, neatly blocked the punch aimed at her head. "I leave that to Cloud." She pushed him back with her forearm.

He grunted. "Ah, the _hero_."

It wasn't the first time Tifa had heard Cloud referred to in such a way, but it was the first time that it sounded so... _hostile_. Before she could really think about it there was a loud bang as the double doors of the small gym flung open.

As though summoned by their conversation, Cloud strode in, his blue eyes finding her immediately. They widened in surprise and then narrowed dangerously. Distracted as she was by Cloud's unexpected entrance, Tifa missed Blade's movement and was caught by surprise when he circled a thick arm around her waist, and dropped her to the mat.

Blade's victory was short lived, however, because between one breath and the next Cloud was simply _there_ and Blade was hauled off of her and flung unceremoniously across the room.

"Cloud!" Tifa exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Tifa. What the hell are you doing here?" Cloud demanded, lifting her to her feet. "You're supposed to be resting."

Tifa blinked at the anger in his tone, her own defensive hackles rising. She wiped her hair out of her eyes to better glower up at him. "I have done nothing _but_ rest for two days," she countered haughtily.

"She was handling herself just fine, before you showed up," Blade stated as he righted himself against the weights that Cloud had tossed him into. Gone was his amused expression and good humor.

For his part, Cloud didn't bother to acknowledge the other man had spoke, his attention locked on Tifa.

"You know you're overreacting. I can take a hit. Sure, I may not be Cloud Strife: defender of the Planet, hero, and renowned badass, but I am Tifa Lockhart, founding member of the second AVALANCHE, and Master Zangan's star pupil." She jabbed one finger into his chest. "Don't take me lightly."

Cloud tilted his head, some of his anger fading at her tirade. She was damn adorable when she was mad. He lifted his hands to cradle her cheeks, the pad of one thumb moving to brush against her lower lip. "I don't," he replied softly.

The gym and Blade and everything else faded from Tifa's mind as she slowly drowned in the forever blue of his eyes. She watched, fascinated, as his lips quirked. He was well aware of the effect he had on her.

A throat cleared.

Cloud's gaze didn't leave hers. "Go away."

"Does everyone jump when you say?" Blade asked, his voice low. "Because I won't."

Cloud sighed, lifting his head to slant a very unfriendly look in the other man's direction. "Something you wanna say?"

Tifa shifted, glancing between the two men, confusion furrowing her brow. She didn't recall them even knowing one another, but she definitely got the sense of some underlying hostility.

When Blade spoke, it was to her. "Thanks for the lesson in humility. Let me know if you ever want to hand me my ass again." With one last glower at Cloud, he left.

Cloud followed his back with narrowed eyes.

"You don't like him."

Cloud shrugged. He didn't see a point to pretending otherwise. "No."

"Any particular reason why?"

"He wants you."

Tifa blinked. She hadn't gotten that impression at all. "I don't think so."

Cloud made a sound-somewhere between snort and huff. Tifa was rather oblivious sometimes. He knew from experience.

Tifa smartly switched the subject as she snagged her towel from her duffel and patted her cheeks. "What has you so riled this morning?" she asked, voice muffled by terrycloth.

"You mean aside from you vanishing from the Sierra?"

"I didn't vanish. I left a note." She made a face. "You seem to think that's adequate communication."

He had the grace to look guilty. He sighed, shifting his gaze to a spot over her shoulder--a clear sign that he wanted to avoid the lecture he knew was coming.

Deciding that she wasn't about to let him be evasive today she cornered him with a solemn look.

He squirmed beneath it, one hand scratching the nape of his neck. "What?"

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked, quietly.

"Tifa…"

"Don't tell me that it's nothing. Or that I'm imagining things. Or that you're fine or that everything's fine. You're hiding something. I know you, Cloud Strife. I can feel it, and damn it, I can't... _I won't_...let you lie to me again." Her voice threatened to crack, but she held it together even as she blinked back the sting of tears. "We have _nothing_ if we don't have honesty between us."

There was a long pause before he let out an equally long sigh. "Walk with me." He held out one hand.

Tifa gave him a dubious look but he simply waited, patiently, until she took it. Immediately he turned hers so that their palms lay flush, and laced his fingers between hers. For a long time Tifa had assumed that Cloud wasn't overly affectionate; she had, in fact, thought maybe he didn't _like_ being touched, but the truth was that with his senses on overload all the time sometimes touching brought _too much_ \--good and bad. It wasn't a matter of _liking_ it, but a matter of adjustment.

Not long after they surmounted their emotional hurdles, Tifa came to realize that Cloud did like being touched, at least by _her_. He even craved it. So she tried to be as tactile with him as she could be as a result. A small touch here, a light caress there. To let him know she cared; that she was there. She did so now with a light squeeze.

They had strolled nearly across the camp to the airfield before he spoke, his voice low and slightly rough. "Reeve thinks the attack the other day was coordinated with a specific goal in mind."

Tifa inclined her head; listening, but still confused. Why would that be something to keep hidden? She asked him as much.

His fingers tightened. "You were the goal."

"I don't understand." She shook her head. "Unless...do you think that they're planning to use me to get to you?" Her words edged hard. No way would she let anyone use her to hurt him.

"That's not it," he slowed their pace. "It's not me they're after. It's you."

"And you're basing this off of what? One attack?" She shook her head again. "I think you're wrong." It didn't make any sense for her to be a target.

Cloud stopped, turning to face her. "Reeve's had his analysts breaking down some transmissions they've picked up. You're mentioned." His lips tightened. "Frequently."

Tifa searched his face, seeing the truth there. It didn't matter if it made sense, she considered. If Cloud felt that she was in danger, then he would definitely be coiled tight. "And you've been acting so strange because you've been worried," she murmured. 

"I was going to tell you," he murmured, the fingers of his free hand tucking her hair behind her ear. "I just wanted to make sure that the information was accurate before worrying you." His lips twisted in a rueful half-smile. "Looks like I worried you anyway."

She glanced away, tucking her chin down. "I guess I still have some issues to work through."

Cloud tipped her chin back towards him, his eyes soft. "It's okay," he murmured, bending closer. "We can help each other. I know we can."

She smiled into the kiss.


End file.
